


colder than Mars, warmer than Europa

by fourthdimnsion



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Experimental Style, Game: Destiny 2: Beyond Light DLC, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Bonding, consider that i don't know about exo anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-24 17:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourthdimnsion/pseuds/fourthdimnsion
Summary: Ana and Elsie share a blanket, and a pending question arises.
Relationships: Ana Bray & Elsie Bray
Kudos: 6





	colder than Mars, warmer than Europa

Elsie stared at Ana with worry. 

She’s been seeing this sort of behavior repeating itself for a while now. She wakes up in the evening, way too cold for her own good, and sees her sister staring at the nowhere in different spots of their little tent. Since Eris and Drifter had temporarily parted to their own paths, this place became a lot more wide for the two of them, and Ana had taken advantage to feel herself a lot more comfortable in being all over the place. So that’s why this happens a lot. 

Elsie found that funny at first, even, because wandering from timeline to timeline with her own idea of befriending Ana has made her forget how goofy yet volatile her little sister could be. And that made her a little relieved too; because she has never changed, at all. 

But then, she realized that she had lost a lot in this little gap between realities. 

Something cracked inside the lightbulb. Its orange-ish color resembling the sun tracing a line around Ana’s silhouette, motionless next to it. Elsie ponders about giving her space, but as she looks further, she thinks that Ana could use some of her presence right now. 

The Exo slowly gets up from the bed and sneaks her way beside her sister. Ana doesn’t pretend she can’t see what Elsie is doing, but she only glances at her when she’s crossing her legs on the floor — which is, by the way, colder than the warmth of the bed —, and not once taking her blue eyes off her. Ana can feel those right on the back of her neck, like a friendly hand guiding her, and sometimes it's quite unsettling. 

“I’ve told you to not worry about me,” she says firstly, looking at the source of the heat. “I am handling all of this very well, if you’re about to ask me.” 

“I wasn’t, but glad that you’ve decided to say how you feel.” 

“As if I wasn’t giving you reports all the time…” 

“Ana—” Elsie tries, but trails off when she sees her bracing herself, literally. She sighs. “Cold?” 

“A lil’ bit,” she answers; glancing at her sister picking the blanket behind them and wrapping it over their shoulders. “Thanks.” 

Elsie nods, observing how Ana’s shiver has considerably lowered as she grasped on the edges of the fabric. She thinks she can see something lurking in the corner of Ana’s eye, a faint obscure haze taking hold on, but she forces herself to not worry about it. That makes part in the process of wielding darkness as a weapon and that is as well one of the dire obstacles in between. 

Although that frightens her, Elsie turns her head and silently observes the lightbulb. 

She hears the cracks and feels its unbearable heat compared to the blizzard from outside; and for a brief moment where she doesn’t dwell into causes and consequences and allows herself to be at ease, she softly bumps her shoulder against Ana’s — who, to her surprise, bumps back. There’s a temptation in resting her head over her older sister’s shoulder that Elsie can easily catch in her, yet somehow there is containment. As much as they’ve been living together for a considerable while, this sort of vulnerability between them is still a long process to face — it takes time to regain the broken pieces and glue them all together, plus the confrontation of trust versus overprotection that makes it difficult. Even though Elsie has her reasons, she has to understand that this would be expected, and time would be both a friend and a foe for them. 

So if Ana simply reciprocates the gesture, then it’s all going fine. 

Elsie sighs softly this time. 

“May I ask you something?” Ana asks quietly. 

“Anything.” 

A brief moment of silence preceded the question. 

“How was it to kill me in your timeline?” 

She held her breath, bracing herself to not flinch away from her sister and to show any reaction preceding a bad outcome. Or sorrow, anyway—but this is just a bad topic nonetheless and Elsie thought that they wouldn’t ever touch it again. Future’s ahead and it’s all that matters, right? She thought so. 

Instead, she tensed just a bit and looked at her, who seemed thoughtful yet condescending, waiting for the answer to come. Enlightened by the lightbulb, Elsie could see how Ana didn’t even unlock some guilt reserved by someone that hasn’t brought it to her, she just needed to know about the details. Perhaps this one in particular was drumming a lot in her mind in the past few days. 

She passed a hand through her face. Honesty is the key in moments like these, and she owed Ana a lot of it. 

“Horrible,” Elsie says. “I’ve hesitated a lot. Countless times. Tried to think of something else to do, something I could do for you to not end up like—” 

She stops. She closes her eyes, and effortlessly remembers the feeling that brewed inside her. Anger, despair, sadness; a hatred for the world and mostly her grandfather for being forced to kill what was her treasure. And in the end, to feel regret for something unavoidable with the thought that, still, something could’ve done. 

Feels like it took everything — forever — to stop feeling this way. 

Elsie shakes her head. "Predetermined fates are always the painful ones to face. No matter what, it won’t change. I couldn’t change what happened to her. The pain I’ve dealt with after was… unbearable.” 

She wanted to say sorry. For an unknown reason, she wanted to tell it as if it suited also for every Ana she met in other timelines, but mostly for the one in the past and the one in the present sitting beside her. 

A pair of chestnut irises watched her. Elsie awkwardly looked at them, and Ana no longer held the thoughtful glare that went in the entire night; instead, empathy glistens in those. Something reassuring, saying that she’s sorry, too. 

The silence that follows leads Ana into coming closer into an embrace. She timidly wraps her arms around Elsie, but soon as her head rests over her shoulder, she tightens the hold like something to be held forever. Ana’s warmth is comforting; the light that inhabits her burns strong despite the cold within the darkness she’s learning how to wield. Elsie stays still for a while, but it doesn’t take much before she’s hugging her back — and it feels nice, for once, to not feel grief grasping her throat. She feels like she can breathe. She feels like things can be done properly right. 

“I’m glad this time was different,” Elsie adds, and Ana doesn’t let go of her. “I’m glad that I’ve gathered courage to speak with you. To tell the truth. Even if I may not be the best sister, I’m glad that you still call me that.” 

Then, Ana departs just to look at her. Her eyes shine as if tears are forming on the corner of them; if Elsie could, she would be in the same state.

As if she anchored on some memory from her original timeline, she mindlessly reached a hand to her face and slowly stroked Ana’s cheek. So beautiful, so much pride for her, so much care that it floods Elsie, making her thoughtfully sigh. 

“With you, I feel like I’m back home again,” she concludes softly. “Yet, sometimes…” she takes her hand off her face, and leaves it resting over her lap. “The thought of losing you scares me to death; it will haunt me forever. Thus why, sometimes, I worry too much about you.” 

Ana smiles. “I knew that,” she says lightly. “Even if I didn’t live half of what you’ve gone through, I knew that you would be so worried around me, during all the time I’m spending here, lurking with the darkness and etcetera. No need to justify at all. I just knew it.”

Elsie blink. “What do you mean?” 

“I would feel the same if I tried to reach for my sister again and fail each time it happens. After all that I've fought for, I definitely would.” She tilts her head, shrugging. “I actually feel the same, Elsie. Who am I trying to lie to if I missed you?” 

Ana watches her shoulders fall ever so slightly, as if a question were responded and a strong sense of relief came right after. She feels a small lump in her throat, but she avoids the crying part. 

Instead, she reassures Elsie. “You know, I would feel very pissed off if all my efforts went down the drain, and to build all of that, all by yourself, once again… I don’t know if I would’ve the same resilience as you.” 

“Ana…” Elsie pleads. 

“And what I’m trying to say is...”

“Please…” Elsie tries again. 

“... I’m glad that you insisted on this,” she completes. “On me.” 

Silence. 

Elsie dryly swallows, trying to shove down all the overflowing emotions that hit her all at once. Instead of fear that’s been remarking on her since Ana stepped in, or since she stepped in this timeline, something lighter has been taking hold on her. Something comfortable, something she’d only felt when she played with Ana when they were children — but instead of nostalgia, it lives in the present and wraps all of her sadness to craft a new emotion. 

Elsie couldn’t name it. She observed the shy smile on Ana’s lips, yet she couldn’t name it. 

The quietness kept even when Ana trailed her attention to the lightbulb once more, hand gripping tight on the blanket as she knew she wouldn’t go to bed that soon. Elsie managed to do the same — covering herself, looking at the light — but with an exception of only one thing: she slowly leaned her head over Ana’s shoulder. Didn’t expect the same to happen, yet got surprised when she indeed did it, resting herself over Elsie without saying anything else. 

She wouldn’t believe that this could possibly happen, back then, trying so hard to avoid what was inevitable and losing track of how to befriend who once was her friend. She wouldn’t believe, in the countless times she’d spent awake planning, that this would've been possible. Yet, once more she was proven wrong; unpredictable fates can also turn out to be as positive as it can. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
